The Other Side Of Things
by TeaseMe2
Summary: What happens when a waitress finds a bag full of cash in the middle of the night? Is it luck? Bella is about to find out that nothing in life comes free...
1. Chapter 1 : Ominous Music

**Chapter 1 : ****Ominous music**

"Table 3 wants their check, boss" I asked over the bar.

"Coming up, Bella. Any last calls?" Carlisle shouted in response, glancing back to me over his shoulder.

"Nah, don't think so boss, we should be good to go in less than thirty minutes. Table 3 is about to get out, 4, 6 and 7 paid and left...and that's about it."

Carlisle was behind the bar drying glasses before putting them back on the shelves above the bottles. He sighed in relief, put his hands on his back and groaned as the ache from the day hit him.

"Great, let me know when the last folks get out."

"Will do." He went back to drying glasses while I busied myself with restocking our menus. I've been working for Carlisle for about three years by now, we get along just fine. He's got a temper but as long as his employees do their share of work, he's a cool guy. I'm not sure exactly how old the man is but I know he is in his mid-fifties.

He looks good for his age, let us be clear on that, if I were to fuck that in thirty years I'd consider myself lucky. His blonde hair and fit body have nothing on his blue eyes. Sometimes I forgot just how good looking he is and some bimbo comes along trying to snatch him up.

And believe me, first time I saw him I wouldn't have minded getting a slice of that either...I just needed a job more than my pussy needed a good fucking.

I've seen many bitches make a play for that hunky piece of man meat but the dude is desperately in love with his high-school sweetheart. It's sweet. Almost sickeningly so.

You know that couple who cannot keep its eyes off of each other for a second when they are together even though they've been married for more than thirty years?

Well meet Carlisle & Esme.

Both of them seem to be the perfect other half of the other. When I see them I think about soul mates. Not the Disney kind, the Plato kind.

In the Symposium, Plato writes about two part of a whole , humans with four arms and legs and two faces split by Zeus who feared the power of those creatures thus condemning each part of the human to search for their other halves _"..and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other's sight, as I may say, even for a moment..." _

I've always found this concept tragically beautiful, for chances are the two parts will never reunite and forever feel the strain of their inner void, their whole being yearning for its missing half, never whole without it.

I was lost in thought when Carlisle called me over to ask if I minded him going home early and closing on my own. He asked nicely which I appreciated. I told him I had no problem with it, gave him a little cheek for going home early to surprise the wife and went back to cleaning.

I often closed up on my own. Carlisle trusted me to do my work properly and be up to his standard even when he wasn't around. I did not disappoint so far and liked our easy going work relationship. I need my job too much to screw it up. Things were clear between my boss and I. Professional doesn't have to mean unpleasant as long as everyone knows their place. That suited me just fine.

"I'm going home, Bella. Don't stay too late, don't forget to lock the kitchen and the pantry before going and..."

I laughed and interrupted him "...and put the alarm on before leaving?"

He smiled and nodded. "I know, I know, you know the drill. Alright, I'm off. Good night, see you tomorrow. You start at eleven right and Heidi has the morning shift?"

"Yes boss!" I saluted him before going back to scrubbing the bar. He let out a low laugh, gathered his things and went to the back exit. "Bye Carlisle, see you tomorrow."

He nodded and was off.

Lost in my work, my thoughts were going everywhere...Laundry waiting to be done at home, bills to be paid and what I still needed to do before leaving work. Like every night, I thought back to our busy evening. The restaurant appeared to attract a growing number of customers which was good for me. It meant more tips. Well more hard work too but I don't mind, the money will be worth it.

Earlier tonight my section was filled to capacity. People where everywhere, trying to get seated or order before their neighbor. Thankfully it went well. It is not always the case. Some nights people are not served fast enough, mix ups happen and the kitchen gets overwhelmed with too many orders.

When the heat is on, things can go sideways pretty fast. You would not imagine how tense things can get every now and then.

Tonight was basically quiet on the tension front, I had time to speak with my customers, which I love. I get to meet many different people on a daily basis, discuss with them when I can and help them have a nice evening, create a great atmosphere. I'm like a host at a party if you will. Or that is how I feel most days at least.

I remember around ten tonight there was a little girl playing with dolls at her parents feet, near their tables. She was quietly mumbling away and I almost did not see her. I barely avoided colliding with the cute kid on the floor, righted myself and served the table their plates.

The kid started throwing a tantrum, babbling about fairy godmothers, princes and eternal love. Her mother got her to calm down and eat quietly by the time I looked back on my section to see if any of my clients needed something. After their meal, the little hellion's dad asked for two coffees and their check. After they had settled the bill, the child was back to her dolls. She was giggling like mad, making her parents laugh and listen to her almost religiously when she included them in her little make believe world, starting with "once upon a time..."

It made me laugh in the middle of my shift and think about fairytale...

_Once upon a time_ there was a little girl.

She used to think everything was possible, she had the world at her feet and big dreams that would one day come true.

Yeah, right, I can hear you thinking from a mile away...What a load of bullshit... And you would be right ! Fact is life is not for dreamers.

Just ask your parents if you don't believe me... If you are like me, you're probably in your mid-twenties, so come on, go ahead and ask them if their dreams come true. I can save you the time, the answer is NO.

We get filled with so much bullshit from day one, telling us we can be whoever we want, that everything is possible in life if you try really hard...You know how that goes.

Those Disney fairy tale shit and other movies where the poor little girl will struggle as she grows up but finally makes it in the end.

I wanted to go over to the blonde cutie and try and break it gently for her...

That shit is just not happening honey.And believe me, I am sorry to have to burst your pink colored little bubble. But here it is. Life is hard. Life is unfair. Morons will get higher paying jobs than intelligent people because they work twice as hard, know the right people or simply are in the right place at the right moment.

The only thing we can do is to suck it up, face the facts and get on with our lives.

Of course I'm not that heartless so I never went over. Let her believe life is a fairy tale for a little bit longer. She'll probably join the ranks of disillusioned women soon enough anyways.

I used to be that little girl, I had dreams, hopes and I would succeed. I thought I would be a journalist and hunt down politicians through the halls of Congress to get a quote on whichever policy, a comment on the government and its actions...

Anyways I will save you the trip down memory lane, flash forward a bit and tell you how that story ends. Little girl grows up, she fucks up, can't go back in time and screws her life over. Now she is desperately trying to make it and finds herself in the exact same position her father ended up years ago.

Talk about family pattern, the legacy of intelligent people failing because they're too sensitive, too tuned up to emotions and end up fucking their lives over.

I followed the same beaten path my father took before, ignored his warnings -sorry, Dad, you did what you could, it's not your fault- which lead me where I am today, a college drop out turned waitress.

I know, not glamorous, you would be right. I work long hours every day, I'm on my feet most of the times, get screamed at when a dish is too cold, too salty, too hot or too spicy.

Though it's not _that_ horrible...I like it because I get to speak with all kinds of people and observe them. People fascinate me. I could watch them all day long and never get bored.

Unfortunately nowadays when people go to a restaurant it's worse than a wham bam thank you ma'am they eat and are out the door as soon as their forks hit the table. They call for their check, settle the bill and less than thirty minutes later will most certainly be back at work.

I suppose our society do not have the luxury of wasted time, time is money and all that. Since globalization we are constantly connecting with individuals on every side of the world, so it would make sense that we would lose sense of time. Different clocks, different part of the world, business expanding and decisions to be made cannot wait it seems so we stick to our smart phones and adapt.

I work in a mall, which is crazy because I hate shopping- really what is so exciting about sales ?- but I suppose if I had money I might like it more. After all window shopping only gets you so far...

And I hate to drool. I will want this dress or those shoes only to realize they are so far out of my price range it's tragically funny... Yeah, story of my life. Then comes disappointment and resignation.

Ever heard of the Kübler-Ross model ? It depicts the five stages of grief in psychology and can be applied to my lust for fabulous shoes...

First there is denial, where I can't believe those beauties would be so ridiculously expensive then comes anger, I feel furious because they are dangling in front of my face in that awesome store and I just can't afford them. Bargaining is the third step, in which I start to think about my bills and how I might be able to budget during the next 3 months and maybe get them, we've all done it and we all know how that ends...

No matter how much you think about it, there is just no way to justify buying pricey pumps just because you think your feet will look so sexy in them and they would look fabulous however going bankrupt for shoes or clothes is too stupid even for me.

Which is when you settle into depression, the fourth stage of the model Elisabeth Kübler-Ross depicted in her 1969 psychology book. Now at this point I feel like shit and replay the story of my life over and over, highlighting the moments where I could have changed my life but instead fucked it up. Yeah, fun times... Anyways after wallowing for a time I enter the last stage : acceptance.

And that, my friends, might be the most important moment.

Realizing you cannot do anything about it, learn to accept that and move the fuck on.

I had pretty much envisioned the rest of my life as a failure, I resigned myself to being boring, lead a mediocre life filled with regrets for the rest of my days on this Earth.

And I was fine with that, I decided to accept it, ponder upon my responsibility in fucking up what could have been a bright future but never let it destroy me. I swore a long time ago to never ever let myself consumed with grief and remorse over things I couldn't change anymore. While my life could have been very different, I made those choices and I could move on from them.

I will not be my father. I will not regret my choices continuously and hate myself for it. I loved my father, he was a good man. He passed away when I was twenty. But we will get back to my daddy issues later on I'm sure.

The point is, I was content. Not happy, not unhappy. _Fine. _

My life was fine, I made enough money as a waitress to pay my bills. My personal life was basically nonexistent but that was okay too. I had a hard time committing to a relationship of any sort, couple that with a bit...hum..._abrasive_ personality -yeah I'm bitchy when pushed, sue me- doesn't make for a very popular, friendly sort of woman believe me.

My life changed on a Monday. I had always hoped life shattering event were preceded by some sort of strange feeling, a little je ne sais quoi in you begging you to take a certain direction, miss an appointment or I don't know.

Looking back to what I've just said I realize how stupid I was.

Naive even.

Life is unpredictable.

There is no forewarning sign, no little music alerting you of the troubles to come. Shit happens. You don't know why, you don't know when. Life is unfair. But it won't change for you. What you can do however is buckle up and enjoy the ride.

I'm good at that.

That Monday at 00:34 I was at the mall, finishing up my shift. People often think a restaurant closes when its clients are gone.

Wrong.

When your clients are gone you need to clean up every table, redress them for the next shift. After that the floors need to be done before you can go home. It doesn't seem like much but picture this after a full shift, when you've just spent hours running all those stairs to go back and forth between your clients and the kitchen or the bar.

With a smile on your face.

I'm not a super human, give me a break. After long hours the only thing I want- no scratch that- _need_, is a hot bath and my bed. After washing the floors I went to the backroom to replace everything for my colleagues tomorrow and take my stuff to go home. I was thinking about what music I would put on in the bathroom to enjoy while bathing but heard a noise.

I remember looking up and seeing a shadow over the exit but thought nothing much of it and went back to gathering my stuff. I put my coat on, took my keys and locked up the kitchen before leaving.

I took the exit in the back like every night. We couldn't do business if we didn't have that.

When the mall closes, we start cleaning up so we need to be able to go with a bit of freeway. It makes everything easier on everyone.

Back when this little magic door did not exist I had to walk through the entire mall to access the general exit on the third floor below. It was a hassle I did not need after my shift and I was glad when the direction offered another solution.

One mile my feet don't walk after work feels like heaven.

Besides, I keep my car near the backdoor so really it is a big step up.

I locked the door and armed the security system, put the keys safely away in my oversized handbag and started walking. I love walking at night, contrary to what I just said. Just not when I'm dead on my feet. It is quiet, most people are asleep at their homes and only a few are privileged enough to witness our world in the darkest of night.

Silent.

I love looking up at the stars.

Sadly in most cities you cannot see them. Too many lights.

Once in a while I get out of the city, and look up. It brings me serenity to watch what is so much bigger than I am. As corny as this will sound, I am reminded of my place in the world.

I'm a part of a whole, that is so small, on the universe scale.

It gets me perspective.

I turned the corner and stumbled before the stairs. I was toying with my phone and lost in my thought and forgot what a walking disaster I am. Literally. I must confess, I am terribly clumsy. I trip over air sometimes it seems. But I have grown used to it. I have been since I was a kid, never changed and probably never will so I moved on from that too.

Even when I pay attention to my surroundings, I am practically a liability for myself. It gave me the joy to experience some extremely embarrassing moments in life, thank you very much but we definitely do NOT need to comment any further on that.

I fell on my hands, dusted them off and got back up on my feet. I was looking at the ground to avoid any repeat fall in the near future and noticed something out of place besides the bench before the parking lot. Right there, barely visible if you didn't squint long enough to see it was a bag. Quickly looking around to find its owner I walked towards it. Despite my efforts,nobody seemed to be there.

I figured I would look inside to check for clues pointing towards the owner of the beat up black satchel. Like a good girl I would get him back his property.

I know how fucking annoying losing your bag is. Happened to me twice. I had to change my locks at home, replace my cell, wallet and id and grieve over the 100$ I had in it. Like I said, shit happens. You move on.

I put the bag on my lap and opened it.

I let out a scream when I saw what was in it.

Just laying in the bag was money.

A lot of money. A pile of money actually. Call it a lot, a pile, cash, money, dough...whatever synonym you can find for it doesn't fucking matter.

The shit was there. Right there on my fucking lap. My mind couldn't comprehend how I ended up sitting on a bench near my car after a tiring shift looking at money. Seriously, I thought that would never happen to me.

Who finds money in a bag on their way back home ? Certainly not me, the girl who has never won a cent in any lottery she's ever bought a ticket to ! I mean this is real life, not some stupid fairytale where the little princess will get swiped off her feet by some handsome dude with money. Nor is it lifetime and its sappy flicks.

I was sitting alone on that fucking bench and all I could think about was how the fuck did this happen ?

I guess I was in shock. That money could change everything for me.

Suddenly I started thinking about moving out, a better apartment, and money saved away for rainy days. It seems crazy that such a thing would just be handed out to me.

Yet it was. So who was I to turn it away ? I grabbed the bag and almost ran to my car. My dad, Charlie, gave me that truck when I came back to live with him back when I was younger. It always held that familiar feeling of those things you own for a long time.

You know they are old but you can't bear to lose them because every time you look at them your mind think of something lovingly familiar. For me it's my truck. It's a red beast of a car. The thing can be heard a mile away,Charlie used to say. I love it.

Off the record I think it gives me a bad ass look when I drive it. But I will never admit it out loud. That's too embarrassing, even for me. A girl has to draw the line somewhere, I suppose.

Tonight was a good night. it felt like my life was starting to look up. All of a sudden things seemed brighter than they had in a long time.

I got back home a little before two in the morning.

I draped my coat over the sofa and sat on the edge of it to get my shoes off. I ran a hand over my sore soles, massaged my poor feet for a little while and got up. I crossed the room to the kitchen where I found a good little bottle of white french wine I uncorked to celebrate my lucky night.

After rifling through my cabinets for a decent wine glass I finally savored my first sip.

And damn did it felt good.

In my bedroom I stripped my clothes off, found a night shirt and switched off the lights before heading to the bathroom.

I took a quick look in the mirror.

I looked like shit.

But working tends to do that to me so I pushed the thought out of my mind for now and started to fill the tub with hot water. I like to bathe in really hot water, almost scalding actually. It relaxes me like a good glass of wine after a long day, it alleviates the stress I get at work and leave me peaceful.

Waiting for the tub to fill, sipping away one of the best things French had to offer seemed heavenly after such a day.

I quietly dipped my finger into the water and swirled it around.

Perfect temperature.

I moaned as I got in, feeling every part of my muscle relax quasi instantly with the warm water. Oh fuck that is good. I sighed, closed my eyes and reclined my head. There was no sound around me except for a low jazz melody I had put on my Ipod dock earlier filtering from my bedroom; the bathroom smelt like the bubble bath I had poured in the tub earlier. Ylang ylang and coconut.

As I was laying back my head against the bathtub at ease in my home, I had no idea my life was changing.

There was no ominous music in the background alluding to the pending doom, no weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. No nothing, in fact.

I didn't know. I didn't see it coming.

My life had drastically changed yet I remained unconscious, unknowingly missing a key factor in my future. It was all happening as I enjoyed the moment, careless in my bathtub. My hand had been dealt and my cards were showing but I was never aware the game had started.


	2. Chapter 2 : Morning Blues

Just a quick note before you read the second chapter... I never expected my little drabble to get on anyone's radar, much less the day I posted it so thank you to all those who followed or favorited my little story.

Special thanks to my first 3 reviewers, You'reCute, SunflowerFran and cbmorefie...you rocked the hell out of my Monday !

Also, it has come to my attention that I forgot to state the obvious : I own nothing but my ideas, words and an unhealthy obsession for coffee. Everything else belongs to their rightful owner.

**Chapter 2 :Morning Blues**

There is nothing much I hate in this world more than waking up early in the morning. Whoever thought that would be a good idea for folks to get up before seven in the morning should be executed. The fucked up thing is, I'm only half kidding...

I HATE mornings.

I'm just not programmed to work in the morning. Maybe something went wrong in my childhood...who knows if Renée didn't drop me on the head back then.

My mom is, for lack of a better word, a free spirit...She couldn't help but feel trapped in our boring little hometown.

Her words, not mine.

Yeah, she is a piece of work, but I've made my peace with her attitude long ago. My dad did what he could to make up for my mother's shortcomings, bless him.

Now that I am an adult, I see all he must have sacrificed in his life to help me grow up and I will forever be grateful for my dad.

Don't get me wrong, I understand being larger than life, I really do however I also understand that some responsibilities should come first.

Children fall into that category...If you don't want them, you take precautions to avoid it - ever heard of a wonderful and revolutionary little thing called a condom?!- and despite your safe behavior, if an accident happen then you deal with it.

Responsibly.

By weighing the pros and cons of your decision and thinking about it in realistic terms. I personally believe every one of them is a valid one. Abortion is a possibility, but so is adoption or keeping your baby and watching him or her grow into a person. Each woman should be able to decide what is right for them, without being judged for it.

But that is only my opinion. To each their own I suppose.

Anyway, my mother made a choice to keep her baby, probably in part due to peer pressure and society back then but still she consciously made it. Just couldn't handle the consequences.

She left us multiple times, she would simply go out of town for a time while her only child cried herself to sleep most nights wondering when mommy would be back.

Things settled a bit around my seventh birthday, Renée and my dad tried to make it work for my sake. We all know how things turns out when circumstances sort of force people to be what they aren't...

Long story short, dear old mom was cheating on Charlie with a baseball player wannabe and dragged me halfway across the country to follow his so called career. I was ten, barely out of my childhood, unfairly uprooted from a small town I loved to God knows where, Florida.

Although what I hated most was to be so far away from my dad. I missed him like hell, grumpy side in the morning, messy bathroom and football nights included.

I made it back to Forks mid-teens, happier than I had been in a while to be back in our little house. Charlie was ecstatic to have me under his roof again while Renée was much too occupied with her player to miss me. I solved her problem for her, lifting the guilt away by taking myself out of the equation.

Last night was exhausting. After taking a bath I toweled off, put my night shirt on in front of the oval mirror I hung on the wall when I first started to rent my apartment and went back to my bedroom. The shirt I wore for the night used to belong to my Charlie, it read Forks P.D in the front in block white letters and our last name was written in the back. I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Waking up step by step, I mulled my evening over as I ate breakfast and satisfied my most important obsession, the need for coffee. Seriously, I'm not sure I'd ever get anything done if it wasn't for coffee. How did people live back when it was too expensive for anyone other than rich people to drink the heavenly beverage ? I like it black. Bitter, strong and heavy. It gives me a boost in the morning...Yeah, who am I kidding, it's practically keeping me alive most days.

_Hi, my name is Bella and I'm a coffee addict._

I should create a Coffee Anonymous support group for people like me. I can just imagine what that would look like...

I looked through my fridge for the milk to put in my cereals and started to think about the day ahead. I felt better than I had in a long time, almost free. I had no dark thought, no worries. For once in my left, I felt right.

Things had started to change for me last night...Finding the money as I was walking to my car brightened my life and would change it in many positive ways.

Better part of it ? I did absolutely nothing to get it...

Now if I were more cynical, I might have thought about a Latin phrase , _de omnibus dubitandu._ I think it was Descartes who said it first, but it was said to be Karl Marx's motto. Doubt everything, be suspicious of everything. However I could only enjoy my luck. I'm a pragmatic woman, so whatever happen will happen. No need to get so worked up over things out of your control. For now, I'm enjoying a fortunate coincidence, reveling in the fact I was the one to find that bag and thus the money. Maybe I had a change in luck last night to compensate my previous losses. Or perhaps luck did not have any hand in that and I was simply at the right place at the right moment. My path and the choices I made up to that point, or those I could not and simply endured, lead me to that stroke of good fortune.

Who the fuck knows why right ?

What I knew was the facts. And fact is, _I_ found that bag yesterday. Not a shopper, not one of my coworkers, not even my boss, but _me_.

I figured I would reflect upon the circumstances who lead me to the cash later on. I could speculate about its owner and why it was right there for me to grab when I did not have to be at work. Tomorrow was my day off so I'll leave those questions up for tomorrow.

For now, I had to hurry the fuck up and finish my bowl of cereal, jump in the shower, dress and then I had errands to run before work, among which going to the grocery store. My poor kitchen felt lonely, abandoned and definitely needed supplies if I wanted to eat tonight after work or on my day off for that matter.

I was about to jump in the shower when my phone started to ring. See, smart phones are slowly taking control of our lives. I remember a time when not everyone had a cell phone, Carlisle likes to say those were the good old days. Indeed, back when letters were still written and Facebook or Twitter did not mean anything we had more freedom, or the illusion of it at least. No string perpetually linking us to everyone and their mother...Of course, technology has good points too. I'm a Words With Friends junkie, I can play hours on my phone to win rounds and am quite competitive but I'm glad I knew a time where things were different. Nostalgia seems pointless though, I'm not going to turn into a technology hating person over night nor will I change the world on my own. Thus I adapted. One of mankind's better aptitude it seems. To be able to adapt means surviving over extinction for most species, humans included.

Carlisle's nervous voice greeted me on the phone, "Thank God, you picked up."

I laughed before replying "Hello to you too boss."

"Can you come over earlier than eleven today ? Heidi was a no show this morning, Seth just called me."

"Yeah, sure, no problem Carlisle." I answered right away, starting to dress as we spoke.

He explained the morning cook had alerted him to our dear coworker's absence, waking him up at nine. I was not surprised, Heidi isn't exactly known for her reliability...Except if you're fucking her I suppose, then I have it on good authority that she can be _very_ reliable.

Heidi and I aren't exactly the best of friends or even friends at all for that matter...I suppose we barely tolerate each other.

I'm underestimating it, she actually hates me. Everyone knows it and she has never been shy about her opinion on the way I dress, what I do and how I do it, why I will end up alone etc... I don't particularly care about her nor do I want to participate in semi high school bullshit. Unfortunately it affects our work. And that pisses me off.

I don't mind people hating me, I'm sure she has her reasons and they are probably valid in her mind though she doesn't interest me enough to try and figure out why, much less attempt to change her mind about me.

She clearly has no sense of what work ethic means... These days she takes calls on her cell whenever Carlisle is looking the other way, she can't keep up with all of her customers, asking us and mainly me to pick up after her. The little bitch even tried to pin one of her major screw up on me a while back.

Contrary to her teenage-like attitude, I intended to stay professional at all cost. No matter if she was a no show today, I would remain calm. Hopefully...

Forgoing my shower I rushed to my bedroom, did my make up in three minutes top, brushed my teeth as fast as humanly possible and was out the door.

Work went okay. It passed quickly for once, no major event besides the Heidi case.

The only thing worth mentioning in all that very boring day happened at eleven.

As I came back from the kitchen with three plates balanced in my hands, I noticed a new customer in my section. The man sat with his back to me, hunched over the newspaper his hair was a messy brown with reddish streaks of sorts which striked me as a pretty odd color.

After attending to two previously seated customers, I went to his table to get his order.

"Hi sir, what can I get you today?"

The mop of hair moved upwards and revealed a very good looking man. I sighed and smiled warmly to mister gorgeous when he answered in a low, raspy tone.

_Fuuuck_, I have a weakness for sexy voices. It's not my fault, I swear. I just can't resist them, they make me weak in the knees.

I felt a surge of desire flare up in me, appealing to my inner whore. Really, she was singing Hallelujah.

I maintained a professional front while internally drooling at the hunk in front of me. By now, my waitress routine was well oiled but that beautiful stranger kind of threw me for a loop. While I'm used to men-I have to be given my job-even lecherous ones, I usually get the ugly or boring, not the dreamy kind at work. But hey, I'm definitely not going to complain. I smiled, wrote his order and moved on.

I told Seth what I needed and went back to check if everything was in order in my section.

As I was looking around my eyes could not help but look back to the handsome stranger. He was wearing a black shirt under his leather jacket coupled with jeans.

As I looked closer at his shirt,I saw the words _Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee ?_written in big bold white letters across what looked like well-defined abs.

I laughed loudly which made him snap his head to me. He sent me a big smile when he saw me observe his shirt.

"Do you know who said that miss ?" he asked when I brought him his coffee.

Black with a chocolate muffin and bottled water. I gave him an easy smile, shook my head and answered. "No idea but I love the quote. I'm a coffee addict so I can understand the feeling very well."

He opened his mouth showing me his pearly whites, let out a sigh and quickly smirked at me. "I am in familiar territory then." He winked, I nodded and said in a hushed tone "Don't spread it ." Mister Gorgeous laughed loudly and got back to his coffee.

From time to time he would watch the room over the brim of his cup. He seemed lost in thought so I just let him be. I was hoping he would use the quote to flirt with me but I must not have been his type because other than a smile or another smirk, he pretty much kept to himself.

Some customers want small talk, others want you to make jokes or talk about the news, but mostly people want you to be nice with them and follow their lead, which is more than fine by me.

After thirty minutes, two more coffees and another muffin, the man paid and got up, allowing me to clean the table. Contrary to slacking coworkers - read Heidi - I like to do it as soon as possible. It has to be done anyway so no need to draw out the inevitable. I realized bills were safely stuck between his napkin and his plate, waiting for me to take them.

Thank you God, not only was he handsome but he gives good tips as well.

Don't know what I did in this life or the previous one to earn that...Maybe a heavenly screw up ? Does that even happen, mistakes in paradise ?

At any rate I'm hoping it doesn't stop. I smiled as I saw how much he left on the table.

The rest of the day went by quickly, we were quite busy but that wasn't out of the ordinary and certainly nothing I couldn't handle.

Happy to leave earlier than yesterday, I stopped by the grocery store to buy fruits, milk and some more supplies. Thankfully there was but a few people so I was at the cash register in no time paying for my purchases.

The truck had trouble starting after my pit stop at the store, it made more noise than usual so I made a mental note to look it up in the week or bring it to the best mechanic in town and see if he'll have a look at it.

Jacob is great with cars, people even come from Seattle to get his magic hands to work on their car. Really, he is that good at it. He has a particular knack for old cars, has been since we were kids.

We grew up together thanks to our fathers who were best friends for a long time. They used to take us on fishing expedition when we were kids. I remember feeling like we would chase Moby Dick, fight a battle against the mighty sea to get some fish back with us. Jacob and I used to make up stories in the back of the boat or have contests over rock throwing, fish catching..pretty much everything in fact. I was a little tomboy back then, my dad loved it, he taught me how to shoot, how to fish, gave me his love for football and beers - well that one came on its own, with Jacob and his friends at the La Push beach in high-school but that is another story entirely... During our teen years, both dads would speculate about our love lives, planning our wedding and our entire relationship really from the first date to our children's name. We talked about it together a lot but opted to remain best friends and not screw that up with sex or romance...

We had imagined being each others first once but left that thought quickly when Jacob met Leah the summer we turned seventeen. I never told him that, however I would have felt more than awkward having sex with him back then. It would have been like fucking my brother or maybe a cousin. Erk, I gagged just thinking about that...That obviously wasn't meant to be but Leah was very kind to Jake. Years later they're still very much in lust with one another, and I'd wager in love, given the way the both of them are going at it. They have been trying to have a baby for more than a year now and I really hope they do. Leah can be very blunt but she's a softy under her tough exterior and my oldest friend would make such a good dad. He was always the most patient man I've known, he used to take time for me back when we were kids while his friends thought girls had cooties. I think his soft side will make for an awesome dad, a little girl would have him so wrapped around her fingers...I can't wait to see that with my own eyes.

I heated a pot of water while undressing and came upon the money I had left earlier this morning, hoping to count them. I had forgotten all about it, going on with my day as usual but had forgotten to hid it.

Everything was in its place, save for the strange bag in the middle of my bed. I inspected the bag, found no significant tag or anything that would help me identify the owner. There was nothing but the money in it.

I threw the content of the bag on my bed. _Fuck_, that was a lot. I wonder who could be so stupid ? How do you just forget a bag when it holds that much money in it ?Never mind that : their loss, my gain.

I started to count out loud each bill, put them on the other side of the bed and started over. Take one, count it, add it to the pile and repeat. I spent the next fifteen minutes doing that, repeating the same movements over and over again.

At the end of it, I had $250000 in $100 bills.

_Holy fuck..._I let out a sort of hysterical giggle, fell back on my bed and exhaled.

I needed to figure out what to do with that as soon as possible. I obviously couldn't justify such a deposit on my account at the bank.

What would I answer when people would ask where the money came from ?

On the other hand, keeping it here, just laying around did not appeal to me either, it did not seem right so I stuffed it back in the black bag and set it in the back of my closet.

Okay, so maybe that went a little overboard. My home has never been broken into, but that would be just like me to win some unexpected money only to get it stolen from my apartment later on so at least if a burglar came, he would have to make a real effort to steal it.

Now that my luck had turned, I was not taking any chance. No way in Hell.

Call me a nut job, call me paranoid if you'd like, I won't budge. Now I just had to figure out how to use the money discreetly. That would have to wait, I was hungry and headed towards the kitchen.

I put some music on while I cooked, swaying from time to time in rhythm to Marcus Miller's bass line. The guy is good. Tasting a bit of the pesto sauce I was making while humming was a regular occurrence to me. Food and music mix almost as well with each other as they do with sex. Just sayin'...

I thought about my beautiful stranger and felt the longing in the pit of my stomach. Damn I need to get a life. I don't do much these days, apart from work. Of course you need friends to get out and save for Jake, I'm pretty much a loner these days. Truthfully, I was never the popular one I like the quiet, always liked to think, lose myself in my thoughts more than I should and I have a fetish for books. There, I said it.

Letting my sauce cool off after it was done, I drained the pasta straight away. I got the wine bottle I had opened last night out from the fridge, grabbed a glass and poured some white wine in it.

I was halfway done when I heard a noise by the window. Whipping my head towards it I was waiting for it to happen again but it never came. Losing interest I finished my meal quietly, savoring the wine.

My phone buzzed, alerting me to a new mail. Grabbing it from the desk I saw it was Rosalie. She's my cousin, and a fucking pain in my ass. The girl can't be trusted with her own heart. She's in love every two days and each man she meets is at first the one. Yeah...well you wouldn't believe how many times I met the one. Apparently he can come in all shapes and colors...

I looked at the text. _R U home bitch ? I need 2telU smth _

Some times I forget she's supposed to be the older one. I'm pretty sure she figures ignoring her age will make it go away. I would not be surprised if one day Rosalie came up to me and explained why face lift will save her soul by shaving ten years worth of lines off I will probably nod and simply move on. Not only is she a fucking airhead but Rose is a happy person. A _REALLY annoyingly_ happy person. The kind that grates on your nerves until you slap her just to give yourself some relief. Again, only half kidding. And there is all that pink she wears. I can't stand the color but she more than makes up for the both of us, believe me...I think her mother was cousin with mine, or something like that. Charlie told me multiple times but I've never cared all that much about her, to be perfectly honest.

I groaned out loud, discarded my phone and laid my head on my arms. _Fuck my life.._.I didn't need Rose's bullshit on my plate. Not right now. I'll deal with her tomorrow.

I cleared my plate, washed the dishes and sat back with a book on the couch.

As I was reading my book, I heard a noise again, twice maybe, though it seemed louder this time around. I turned to look to my right, trying to find the source of the noise, wondering what the hell it was...I heard it a third time, louder again, yet I couldn't find out where it came from, nor what caused it, which freaked me out a bit. I was reaching towards my phone when everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3 : Dubious Circumstances

Just a quick note before you read this chapter...I never expected my little drabble to get on anyone's radar, much less the day I posted it so thank you to all those who followed or favorited my little story. I'd love to know what you think. Good, bad and in between. Don't be shy, leave a review, I don't bite...much.

Special thanks to cbmorefie, who reviewed twice.

Also, it has come to my attention that I forgot to state the obvious : I own nothing but my ideas, words and an unhealthy obsession for quotes. Everything else belongs to their rightful owner.

And finally, it has been mentioned to me that teenagers could read my story. I won't patronize any of you but this story will include violence -in multiple forms -, guns, drugs - legal and illegal ones -, sex - possibly multiple times - , and most definitely unethical behavior of all sorts...Bottom line is, this is fiction, so don't reproduce anything you shouldn't at home just because you read it here.

( I can't be held responsible for the world we live in, TV or the Internet thankfully )

Now that I have covered my ass, let's get on with it...

**Chapter 3 : Dubious Circumstances**

I screamed when the lights went out, fear spreading into me as adrenaline coursed through my body. To my defense, the noise was creepy and I am easily surprised. I'm that girl you can scare although she knew it was coming. It's ridiculous but I can't fight it, I will probably die of a heart attack some day or something...

Laying one hand in front of me to avoid bumping into my furniture, the other grasping my phone to light the way to the fuse box, I headed towards the door. I was glad my dad had taught me well, new fuses were taped to my box which avoided me the hassle of searching through my cabinets when the power went out.

I was annoyed by another power shortage, cursing my landlord out loud while I changed the fuse. In the middle of my rant I heard the same damn noise as earlier during dinner. _What was that ? _Jesus, the only thing missing is a creepy music and some axe murder to make my day... The noise kept getting louder and quite frankly it was beginning to creep me out a bit. I assumed it was nothing at first until the lights went out. Again. Right after changing a fuse. That was too strange a coincidence, even for me.

Deciding to be cautious, I crept silently towards the kitchen where the gun my Dad gave me as a housewarming gift was hidden. The noise amplified while I checked the security off the Glock 17. My father swore it was the best gun since it is easy to use, handy for a woman and most police forces use this one. Now I'm not sniper material but I'm a fairly good shot. I went to the shooting range from time to time but never had to use my gun outside, much less in my own home. Seems to me there is no better place than now to see how I would do with it in real life. I was calling 9-1-1 as I saw the doorknob move. I let out a high pitched squeak and started sweating profusely though I steeled my nerves as I waited for an operator to pick up my emergency call.

They still hadn't picked up.

_Fuck I'm really gonna be on my own...Come on, come on, you can do this _I repeated over and over in my head. The door opened silently, a man-maybe ? I couldn't be sure but the person looked tall and quite thick from where I stood - barely registering yet alone understanding what was happening to me. The hooded intruder stepped further inside, coming closer to me with each step he took. Meanwhile I was having a kind of out-of-body experience, conscious yet in a haze almost as if I was looking into my life from an outside perspective.

I needed to get a grip and I needed it fast before things went sideways . I put my phone in my pocket hoping somebody would take my call before it was too late. A burst of courage surged from my guts as I screamed at the burglar.

"Get the fuck out of my house, asshole."

My hands shook a bit but I kept my gun trained on the trespasser in front of me. The stranger whipped his head to the corner of the room where I stood petrified. My heart thumped loudly in my ribcage.

Maybe this is what a panic attack feels like ?_Oh god he's moving... Fuck, I need to get out of here._

I had no bravery left in me. Fear and survival instinct were driving every fiber of my being to retreat backwards hoping to slink away quietly to my bedroom. My plan had so many flaws it couldn't even be called a plan. What would I do in my bedroom ? Lock the door, maybe push my dresser in front of it and pray that my intruder would find God in my living room or merely morals thus seeing right from wrong for the first time in a long time ?! Yeah, right.. Some people might say miracles happen but I'll side with St Thomas on this one. Sorry God, but the point goes to the skeptical apostle. The criminal will most likely end up with my blood on his hands...Maybe he'll keep it entertaining and chop off my limbs preferably when I'm dead if I had to choose but I probably won't get to...who knows what that sociopath will do to me ? _Shit, I'm starting to panic I think._

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT" I warned again although I suppose a woman with an average build such as myself didn't scare a creepy criminal all that much since he was still advancing in my direction. Even if said woman was holding a gun. So I did what every sane person would have done in my situation.

I shot him.

He looked at me almost surprised I had fired my weapon. I wasn't planning to stick around and watch him recover so I grabbed my car key on the kitchen island before running to my bedroom. I locked the door, snatched the black satchel in my closet along with my oversized handbag which was laying besides my nightstand and got the hell out of here through my window. As soon as my feet landed on the fire escape I ran down the stairs to the street hightailing it towards my truck, feeling immensely grateful it was parked on the next street over mine.

I drove until I reached Jake and Leah's place. After cutting the ignition I put my head on the wheel and blew a deep breath. Mulling tonight's strange burglary-invasion of my home, I knew I couldn't stay here. I didn't want to put either of them in danger and if what happened at my place was any indication, I was in trouble.

Normal, day to day criminals don't act like that stranger tonight. They don't wear masks, don't shut up when you scream at them and they're not...I mean...He looked..and acted...I don't know...but that wasn't regular B&E behavior. It felt strange. All of it. The way he was dressed, his attitude, his silence. It all felt off to me.

My thoughts drifted to the money I found yesterday. Did he come for it ? How could he know I had it ? Did he follow me ? Who was he ? What did he want ? Or she for that matters ? And if it wasn't about the money, was it just bad luck that this happened...not even a week after I've had that money ?

That can't be a coincidence. I'm just a waitress. What reason - other than random B&E - could someone have to burglarize my house ? I'm nobody. Well not really nobody, but I'm not relevant. I'm not the keeper of some big government secret base site nor am I a criminal or a...I don't understand, none of it makes sense.

What about the money ? I found it just _laying_ there. The bag was on the bench for fuck's sake and there was no one around..._NO ONE. _I looked.

I could not grasp what was happening to me.

I had to go to the police. Yes, that was a good start. Go to the police, press charges, explain the shooting then go back home and forget all about it.

What about the money ? Do I tell them ? I can't. What if they think I'm mixed up in some shit, guilty by association or something ?

_Fuck I need to calm down.._

I'll bring up my dad. A cop daughter, that will mean something to them, right ? It will give credit to my words. I have no previous criminal record, I work, I'm a quiet girl. No reason to worry.

I was trying to keep a level head. For the first time tonight I wasn't scared out of my mind nor was I in survival mode, I was just a girl driving towards the police department. Leaving the surreal world I had been thrown in earlier felt good. Halfway there I noticed my fuel was running low besides I needed to pee so I turned left at the lights for a quick stop at the gas station. After filling up the tank of the truck I went to the bathroom, peed and washed my hands in the dingy bathroom before getting back to my red beast. The gas station had clearly seen better days. The paint was peeling off the beat up walls, a reminder of better days when it used to be the only place providing gas to people for miles around.

I was almost to the driver side when a hand clamped down on my mouth. I yelled, kicked, spit and tried headbutting my assailant who was holding on to me with a tight grip. I was locked against a man's chest by his muscular arm. No wonder he had such a hold on me, the man had some serious muscles in his forearm preventing me from any chance of escape. I could already tell that would leave serious bruises though the sarcastic part of me couldn't help but note I would be lucky to see them tomorrow. I was frightened as I realized I couldn't escape. Hysteria was starting to spread inside me as the seconds trickled by as slowly as whole minutes.

_Fuck fuck fuck...I'm gonna die._ Jesus, I'm way too young to meet my maker. Shit I haven't get laid in months nor did I realize every little thing on my bucket list. Please God, I know what you must think...I'm such an opportunist when it comes to you I sin too much, pray too rarely and my last confession must have been ten years ago if not more. But please God, if you do exist, keep me alive and I'll be better. Isn't that what you're supposed to be about ? Merciful, loving and all that shit ?

The man tightened his hold on me as he dragged to the passenger side of my car. While my assailant muffled my screams with his gloved hand I kept trying to escape, bite or shove him with my body, but the man wasn't budging. He shoved me inside the truck before tying my wrist with a zip tie to the door handle above the window then quietly shut the door.

Due to my bound hands my body was seated at an awkward angle, accentuating my ever present back ache. I screamed until my throat was raw, hoping the cashier standing inside the gas station would hear me or see me struggling but I wasn't much optimistic seeing how he barely spared a glance to me when I paid not even five minutes ago. The young man had obviously better things to do on his phone than deal with his customers so I couldn't hold my breath on that front.

Lucky me.

The man slapped me when he settled in my driver seat.

"WHAT THE FUCK ? LET ME GO ASSHOLE." I screamed feeling the heat in my cheek. The fucker had probably put enough force behind his slap that not only did it stung like hell but I would probably get a nice little handprint on it. It pissed me off even more.

The man looked ridiculous in my truck wearing gloves and his hood. Really, what the fuck ? The fucker obviously had a screw or two loose...too much Call of Duty Black Ops maybe or too many James Bond movies? Who the fuck knows. I did not understand what the hell was his problem nor did I care, however I needed to get out of there one way or another. As soon as possible.

He turned to me as he revved up the engine, watching me struggle like a tiger to free myself though he said nothing. Not a word, not even a sigh, a groan the man kept silent.

He focused his attention back on the road and drove away. We rode out of town in utter silence save for my screams. I had no intention of stopping. I remembered an article I read on torture some weeks ago where the journalist explained the various ways people used to pressure enemies to give up secrets, such as water boarding or solitary, blackouts and extremely annoying music. I hoped it would grate on his nerves after some time thus forcing him to speak to me. Then I could try and figure out why I was here or escape if I were lucky.

I was losing hope as minutes passed, my throat hurt and the man did not move an inch save for shifting gears. I started singing every little thing that went through my head, trying to be as off-key as possible - truly that wasn't much of an effort on my part...

_"Frère Jacques, frère Jacques. Dormez vouuuus, dormeeez vouuus ? Sonnez les matineeeeuh, sonneeeez les matineeeuuuh...I BELIEEEEEVE I CAN FLYYYY. I BELIEEEEEVE I CAN TOUCH THE SKY...LA LA LA LA LAAAA...I will wait, I will wait for you tam tada da LA OH LALAAA GAGA OH LALA"_

I was singing atrociously wondering how the fucker could withstand it when he slammed on the brakes.

The truck swerved a bit, not used to such driving but the man kept it under control. He parked on the sidewalk, stopped the engine and looked straight to me.

"Listen to me very closely. You are going to stop singing. Actually, make it stop talking altogether. Do you understand ?" he said in a cold, frightening voice. His low tone was slashing through me like a knife, gutting me from the inside out his hooded face staring me down as he waited for my answer.

The nerve of that fucker...Here I am, abducted by a sociopath after shooting another or maybe the same one in my house and he just wanted me to sit there silently and just what ? Accept my fate with a smile on my face maybe, while he led me God knows where to do who the hell knows what to me ? Huh. I don't think so, buddy.

"No, _you_ listen to me asshole. I don't know you, I don't know what you want with me but if you expect me to bend over backwards quietly and just let you fuck me over you've got another one coming, buddy. You're going to let me out of the truck, I will go back home and forget all about tonight. I'll even let you keep the truck. I won't go to the police, I won't mention it to anybody. It will be as if you never existed -" my voice wavered a bit at first but I kept it steady as he interrupted me.

"Look sweetheart, best thing for you to do right now is to stop pissing me off and let me drive."

"And then what ? Where are we going ? Who are you ? What do you want?Was it you in my house tonight ? What will you do to me ? _Please,_ let me out..._Please don't kill me, I have kids.._."

I improvised a bit, but people are always more sympathetic with mothers right ? Besides on every other cop show they tell you to create a link with your abductor, make him realize you have a family, that you're not just a target or whatever...Now I understand most of it is fiction but it couldn't hurt I suppose and some of it had to be based on reality, no ? I was desperate for an escape as I plead with my captor, trying to will myself to cry. The man laughed loudly at my tirade before speaking.

"Oh sweetheart, don't you think I know better ? Please darling, give me some credit...Your name is Isabella Swan but you'd rather be called Bella. You have no family save for a distant relative named Rosalie Hale. Your father passed away a few years ago but you're still not over his death. You will be 28 in a month, favorite color is blue, you work as a waitress...Do I need to keep going ?"

As I listened to him enumerate facts about my life, tears finally welled up in my eyes. Every bit of hope I had disappeared as the hooded stranger started telling me the story of my life. How could he know all that ? Jesus, that went way above whatever I thought was happening. A tear escaped to run down my cheek as I felt completely defeated. My brown eyes fixated on him I felt truly frightening fear. I was raw, exposed, depressed and hysterical all rolled up into one big turmoil of emotions. My stomach twisted and heaved, squeezing me from the inside out.

"I think I'm gonna be sick...fuck" I whined as my face turned blank as a sheet. I felt caged and oppressed, the interior of the car started to spin as my vision failed me.

"Jesus Princess, don't puke."

"Fuck you why don't you kill me now, get it over with, yeah ?"I choked up, hiccupped with tears falling harder down my cheeks as the minutes passed.

He inspected my face, sighed and got out of the car. Putting his hand inside his jacket, he came towards the passenger side of the truck. _That's it. Fuck, I'm really gonna die..._I cried harder thinking about what I could have been, places I would never get to see. Jake's face flashed through my head along with my dad's and memories of us from my childhood started to replay in my mind. I saw Jake and I making mud pies in my dad's backyard, the fishing lessons, our teenage years, building a bike together to make me forget my first heartbreak, I had a spare thought for Rosalie whom I had never really considered as family. I regretted a lot of things though I tried to focus on good memories. I was not going to beg. I had done enough of that. If he was going to kill me I would look at his face but never beg. My dad would have been proud of me. I rationalized my death, made my peace with it in the span of the minute it took my captor to come besides me and open the door. I was ready, at peace, prepared for the inevitable blow he would surely deliver, hoping he would make it fast and not toy endlessly with me while I suffered. _Please God, please, don't let him torture me...I'm ready but please let him make this quick_. I internally bargained with the Lord as I looked straight into the eyes of my killer. I wanted him to remember the moment he took my life; to look back on that day thirty years from now if the bastard was still alive and recall my eyes, my face and my pain. I wanted to haunt him 'til the day he died, make him see my face and the anguish etched on it. Let the bastard see my pain. I opened my face, cleared my eyes of everything but suffering and regrets, using my brown eyes to speak instead of words. I was good at that. My dad used to say he just needed to look into them to know my heart, that they were the most expressive part of me. At that moment I hoped he was right, hoped they would pierce through the hooded man's soul for the rest of his life.

"Oh for fuck's sake, will you stop looking at me with those puppy eyes ?"

" …" I only intensified the plunge of my soul into my eyes when he barked at me.

"Fine, have it your way." He reached into the side pocket of his jacket for his knife. The blade wasn't that long, it was more like a pocket knife or those combat knives the Army issued. I took a deep breath as he came at me with it, awaiting the blow. I've never been stabbed, never had that pleasure I thought sarcastically, but there's a first time for everything. I watched the blade like a hawk wondering where my captor would choose to plunge it. Would he go for fast and lethal or slow and agonizing?

"Jesus, you really think I'm gonna kill you, don't you ?" He asked quietly in his smooth voice.

I looked up at his hidden face, concentrating on his eyes. I couldn't make out their color but they appeared worried, puzzled over my resignation. Ah, the bastard could go fuck off if he thought I would beg. Not happening, asshole. I fixed him with a determined stare, trying to convey the depth of the anger I felt over my current predicament. He took a step closer, still wielding the knife in his right hand. I could feel his breath on the side of my face. I was disgusted yet it sparked something in me. A burst of unsuspected bravery ignited in me. He was so close to me, I had to try something.

I forcefully threw my body against the seat and jerked my knee in towards his groin. The angle was awkward with my bound hands but I managed to hit him. He screamed and lurched backwards falling to his knees on the road.

"AHH..FUUUCK...YOU STUPID BITCH GOD DAMNIT..."

"You like that bastard ? Come near me again and I'll make it limp for life." I yelled back at my captor who was twitching on the ground holding his hands against his genitals.

"You fucking cunt. I wasn't going to kill you-"

"Yeah right bastard...Hence the shiny little blade you fetched from your pocket. Suuure." I interrupted as he got back on his feet.

"I was going to cut your fucking hands loose...not _kill _you ! God you're such a bitch !" He roared back to me while taking his hood off.

I watched with bated breath as he removed the black covering material from his head. He quickly folded it, put it in his back pocket and stared at me.

_HOLY SHIT, I know that man ! _I thought as I looked at him. Lo and behold was my beautiful stranger from earlier today, mister gorgeous back at the restaurant.

_What the fuck ? Coffee quote guy was my captor ? _I could not believe it. The hunk I had admired previously in the day was staring at me with a mixture of annoyance and fury barely visible in his green eyes.

"What the fuck ?"I said out loud watching him progress to my side once more.

"Can I trust you not to knee my god damn balls again if I cut you loose ?" he requested quietly.

The man was giving me whiplash. He went from fury to placid in a minute, clearly the guy was insane or at the very least a bit unhinged. However I was not about to miss my shot at freedom so I nodded meekly and looked down while he sliced my restraints with his knife. I rubbed my wrists alternatively as he took a step back.

"Feel better ?" he asked and I couldn't help but nod. "Good. I understand you have questions but now is not the time. We're going to get back on the road; I know a quiet place about five minutes from here. We'll talk there. OK ?"

"Yes" I said in a hushed tone, still having trouble reconcile my abductor with the hottie I had lusted after this morning. I usually have a pretty good memory but this time I hadn't remembered him. I could not associate his voice with his face until he removed the hood from it.

My beautiful stranger turned possible burglar-abductor aka coffee quote guy sighed deeply as he got back in the driver seat and we took off once more.


	4. Chapter 4 : Lusting After Assholes

**Thank you to all those who followed or favorited my little story.** I'd love to know what you think. Good, bad and in between. Don't be shy, leave a review, I don't bite...much.

_Special thanks to those who reviewed :_

**cbmorefie – **First reader to review every chapter...you made my day! -

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**You'reCute** – Back in the day we had flashlights and candles...now we have phones :P

Sit tight, I have it on good authority that it might get worse before it gets better...

**trutwilightfantasy – **Rookie mistake...I didn't realize at first long story short, I share clumsiness with Bella. I must have pushed the wrong button on Word after editing the first chapter, sorry it got on your nerves...though be warned, I love a good rule breaking lol

Glad you're liking it so far.

**IAmShutterbug – **You're gonna make me blush...and no atrocious wait for you today, here you go.

I own nothing but my ideas, words and an unhealthy obsession with paradisiac beaches.

**Everything else belongs to their rightful owner.**

This one is shorter but I'll make it up to you with the next one. Scout's honor.

**Chapter 4 : Lusting After Assholes**

We drove further away from civilization, down the road, towards the woods as far as I could tell. I suppose it makes sense. Isn't it the perfect place for any wannabe serial killer? Lots of places to bury a body and practically no one around...every sociopath wet dream. I was positive I would end up in a ditch somewhere until he told me he had no intention of killing me, so I suppose he had no use for acres of undefiled land; at least not to hide my remains. Which was a relief. Sort of. If he was telling the truth. And I had no guarantee he would. That was a risky bet but I needed to find out what he knew before thinking about escape plans.

Trying to manipulate him or at least soften him had not turned to my advantage. Not only did coffee guy call my bluff but he knew I would not hesitate to lie. It gave him an insight into the ways my mind worked, which made me very uncomfortable. The less he understood about me, the better.

Although the bastard didn't seem to need me; apparently he already knew my whole life story. Grasping that was hard enough for my scrambled brain. I tried to make connections between the bag, our encounter in the restaurant, my B&E and the kidnapping but the only thing I came up with was stalker-psychopath. That would definitely not cut it... A twisted pervert could have abducted me anytime.

Why specifically right after I found a whole bag of cash? The entire thing was a mess of questions with no right answers. Maybe an advanced human species who came back in time to invade our planet after destroying theirs? I smiled as the thought popped into my random mind.

Looking out the window I could see nothing but green and brown. Trees along the road dissolved into the forest. The speed at which we were driving blurred them into a unique mass of abstract colors.

We turned right at the next crossroad and got on a dirt road. After two minutes of a rather bumpy ride my kidnapper decided to break the silence.

"We're here"

"Good, I want my answers" I replied in a terse tone.

"Not yet. We need to get out."

"Ah! I don't think so, I'm not going any further with you until I know who you are or what you want." I scoffed at the green eyed jerk.

"Fuck you're irritating, sweetheart. I'm a concerned citizen and the only thing I want is to have a conversation with you outside of that car. That's it. Now we can argue, you can insult me or we can have a simple discussion. You choose, I'll be waiting."

_Patronizing son of a bitch._ He got out of the truck to stand right in front of it, staring intently at me through the windshield while I was fuming in my seat.

The childish part of me wanted to pout and scream in frustration as I glared in the truck but I decided to follow his lead. For now.

I slammed the door – highly satisfying when you're angry might I add – and leaned on it. We were locked in a stare down, neither of us willing to back down. He was beautiful. Despite his asshole behavior issues and as much as that pains me to say, he was. Fierce and dangerous, silent but expressive. His stony face held his best feature, those eyes which were currently piercing mine, practically daring me to play with fire. Such a shame to waste that stunning face on a prick.

"You asked me what I wanted? I need you to give me what you took last night" he spoke calmly, all traces of irritation gone from his deep voice.

"Yeah? Well you're out of luck then buddy, because I have no idea what you mean" I answered without missing a beat.

He looked at me intently, he groaned, rubbed his temples with his fingers and spoke again laconically.

"I know what you did last night"

I couldn't help the burst of laughter that came out of me, "Really? I know what you did last night?" I mocked dramatically. "Hey, at least when your career in abductions and other criminal-y things is over, you have a future in comedy. Of course, you'll need to lose the hood and the attitude, but strangest things have happened,right?"

"You're excessively annoying, you know that? That little sarcasm thing you've got going is not becoming, sweetheart_" _he fired back with as much snark.

"OK, well for starters, why don't you stop with the pet name, _asshole?"_

"Oh, I have absolutely no desire to stop, sweetheart. In fact I might come up with a few more. You know, to keep it diversified and all? But right now I really need you to stop lying to me. I already know you took something-"

I rudely interrupted him mid-rant, "You know nothing and I didn't take

anything...Who the fuck are you? And did you break into my app-"

He slapped his hand on my mouth, cutting off any questions I still had for him. I licked his hand as he opened his mouth and he jerked back in disbelief.

"...the fuck?! You goddamn brat" he exclaimed outrageously.

"Oh come on, it's just spit. Get over it. And don't do that again."

He looked incredulously at me, opened then closed his mouth a few times before snatching my arm in his hand, jerking me towards him. He bared his teeth to me as he smiled sadistically and tightened his grip. I tried to yank it back but he wouldn't let go of me. He approached me until he stood barely a breath away from my face and growled at me.

"My mother raised me right, Isabella but make no mistake, I can be rough. So I suggest you calm down, keep the sarcasm and the bitchy demeanor to a minimum and we can talk." He looked dangerously close to exploding. There was a little vein on his forehead that twitched to the beat of his anger and his eyes had narrowed to stare me down in that creepy, sociopathical way of his. To my horror I was actually aroused. He radiated authority and power, the man was built like a Greek God and had the face to match it...Even a nun would find him delicious.

My body seemed to find that display worthy of lust, my pupils had likely dilated and I felt my tongue wet my lips instinctively. Yeah, obviously my traitorous hormones were in full gear...I tried to ground myself and forget about his deliciousness; the man was a violent, manipulative bastard...God, Nature or whoever pulled our strings probably made him beautiful to tempt the poor souls of this Earth, like a camouflage, hiding his true nature under his stunning face. Incredibly good-looking but sadistic on the inside, like every good predator. Us mere mortals have to fight against that heavenly pull, which was exactly what I was doing right now. Fuck he was beautiful. After Coffee Addicts Anonymous, maybe I should just go on a spree and create Lusting After Assholes Anonymous. I'm pretty sure that would be a sound success...

He gradually released the bruising grip he had on my arm and I stepped backwards, putting a little more distance between us as I rested my body against the truck once again.

"Fine. So maybe I found something-"

"A bag" he spoke slowly in a stern tone.

"Hypothetically-"

"Isabella..."he warned dangerously, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Alright, God, what's with the tall and dangerous stance all of a sudden?" I countered, looking straight at him. "How is what I might have found any of your business?"

"I want it, Isabella. Where is it?"

"Why?"

"Because I need answers too" he admitted. His eyes filled with shadows of things I did not know. There was a few that I could name though; defeat, curiosity and determination were the most prominent in the green orbs. His forehead creased as he watched me observe him.

"Why?" I repeated quietly. As soon as I uttered the word he clammed up. "Who are you?" I tried again. I was desperate for answers yet he only gave me cryptic pieces of what felt like a complicated riddle.

"I can't tell you why, not yet-"

"Why the hell did I follow you through this godforsaken forest then? You don't want to kill me - which I am thankful for by the way so don't change your mind – but you won't give me answers either...not even your name for crying out loud." Interrupting the bloody idiot again is starting to feel like a trend. He says no, I say yes, he argues, I counter, one of us interrupts, the other gets even, we fight and on and on and on...

"Things aren't what they seem Isabella, I am not your enemy. That I can swear. The rest will have to wait I'm afraid."

"Yeah well I'm glad to see you think you're so trustworthy but here's a newsflash for you, I don't know you; so as far as I'm concerned, I have no reason to trust you. And up to this point, you've given me absolutely nothing to change that."

The man I formerly knew as my beautiful stranger turned possible burglar-abductor aka coffee quote guy mulled over my words for a while. He paced up and down the dirt road, his shoes crunching the autumn leaves into the soil as I watched him.

" I suppose you have a point."

"Oh, I know I do. You want my trust? Earn it."

"Alright. How about I give you my name? You seemed so eager to learn it before, I'm offering it. Can we agree that we will have made some sort of progress after that? If I do it, I want to know where the bag is."

As I was pondering his words, it hit me right in the middle of my twisted brain as soon as my kidnapper stopped talking. He wanted to know the location of the bag. Meaning he was certain that I had it and in all likelihood he knew about the money. However, the bag was currently in the truck. I had it with me when he abducted me...which means he has no idea what the bag looks like. Revived by that realization, I felt my blood pump harder with the excitement of the upper hand. I had an ace in my hand and the poor fool had no freaking clue. It would be easy to lay low, get what answers I could squeeze out of the dickhead then escape at the moment he would least expect it.

Lure him into a false sense of security as I bade my time, that seemed like a solid plan.

Hence why I nodded in affirmative to his question.

"Yes, that will do."

"Very well then. I'm Edward." He thrust his hand to me. I gave him a blank stare. "Cullen", he added as I waited. I watched his hand, knowing manners dictated it would be proper to shake it; but couldn't bring myself to do it. "Sorry-" I started but did not know how to explain.

"Too soon?"

"Yeah, something like that. You did abduct me, let us not forget that just because you decided to grow some manners over the span of fifteen minutes", he laughed but agreed to let it rest, not even replying to my comment nor its sarcastic bite.

"It's in my house." I threw him a bone, hoping the results would lead me to clues I needed to understand the tailspin my life had become. I went down the rabbit hole and as much as that could be pleasant from time to time, provided the right circumstances and right people were around...as of now, I just felt drained.

Formulating a plan and standing up to that asshole had sucked me dry, along with the burglary earlier which left me half paranoid and half frightened.

I needed to eat, pee and sleep, not necessarily in that order, before my internal shut-down system initiated a hostile take-over.

Edward was watching me like a hawk, his green eyes narrowed into little slits as I yawned. He grabbed my arm again to guide me to my side of the truck.

"Wait," I stalled. "I want to know why you knew about me. I mean, I'm nothing special, why the interest?"

"Tsk tsk Isabella. Are you going back on your word? I thought we had a good deal.."

I snorted. "Yeah, right, such a good deal...maybe you could make an exception, show some sort of good will towards me? That would go a long way to prove you're actually trustworthy."

He contemplated my words with a bit of contempt, if the sneer on his face was anything to go by.

I didn't mind, I could take it. Let him be sarcastic, ironic, bitter and what ever else. That was a step up from his pretty self and maybe my rabid libido could actually shut up for once. However, he had no intention of letting me have some rest it seems.

"Let's say I answered...Would you tell me the truth this time? I know you never left the bag at home, Isabella."

"..." Well fuck me, my ace just turned into a pumpkin.

"Yes, I know you lied. Again." He didn't seemed fazed, as if he were expecting that kind of behavior from me. I was cornered and he knew it. I glanced to the bottom of the truck where my bag laid for a split second but it was enough to betray me. Edward marched to the door, yanked it open and got the bag out. He glared at me, his eyes glinting with triumph.

"Ah ah! What do we have here, sweetheart?" He plunged his hand into the satchel, barely confirming what he already understood. He had found it and my only bargaining chip was gone.


	5. Chapter 5 : Lusting After Assholes, Pt2

Thank** you to all those who followed or favorited my little story.** I'd love to know what you think. Good, bad and in between. Don't be shy, leave a review. _Y__es, _I'm talking to you, my lurking visitors ;)

_Special thanks to __my reviewers __:_

**cbmorefie – **Yeah, she had one of those knee-jerk reaction, on my watch...sorry. I did tell her to be more discreet but she has a mind of her own, what can I do ;)

**SunflowerFran – **Yes there was, and he did, but it's not the end of the ride yet. Now, we push and prod a little more as we delve deeper into E's motivation.

I own nothing but my ideas, words and an unhealthy obsession with car chases.

**Everything else belongs to their rightful owner.**

So, I lied. I was never a scout... Sorry. Next chapter should be back to my usual length though.

* * *

******Chapter 5: Lusting After Assholes, Pt.2**

I just had to look, didn't I...Shit, shit, shit...My own bodyhad betrayed me and there was little else I could do than own up to it. I challenged his elation with a dark glance of my own. Bravery and defiance all but forgotten. I tried faking it but I felt wiped out, my atrocious day finally catching up with me.

"You know what's in it, why bother asking?"

"Look, Bella, I know you feel trapped, but I've already told you I'm not your enemy. And despite what you may think right now, I'm not gonna kill you", his tone softened as he watched me sink to the ground. I pulled my knees up to my chest and laid my chin on them, appraising him as he got down besides me, the bag still in his hand.

While my mind was trying to put things into perspective, Edward emptied the bag in front of our feet. With the cash out of the way, he reached in his jacket pocket for his knife and started cutting through the inner layer of the bag.

"What are you doing?" I watched him, wondering what the man was up to as he widened the slash he had made in the lining of the black satchel. He dipped his hand into the sizable cut he had made with his blade.

"Here it is"

He was holding a green flash drive between his fingers, leaving me clueless as to how that thing had gotten there. He turned it over and observed the device. Nothing seemed to distinguish it from any regular USB stick. Edward, however, seemed relieved to have it in his possession which left me speculating about the drive's content since he remained mum.

Although I tried to prod him, the man was absorbed in his contemplation of the little gadget. I elbowed him in the ribs to get his attention.

"How did you know that would be there?"

"It's mine", he replied without missing a beat. "Someone stole it from me."

Well alright then...God, could he be any more enigmatic?

I was starting to realize that Edward did not do straight answers unless I pushed him to give me an inch. And still, that inch was a ridiculous fragment of the whole enigma.

"You know, that would be the moment where you elaborate until your mysterious ways unfold before me, if you were so inclined." When all else fails, sarcasm is always my friend, even if Edward didn't seem to appreciate my biting tone.

"Isabella", he warned as he put the flash drive in his back pocket. "I'm in no mood to play games''

"Ah" I scoffed, "But that's all you've done up to this point. I'm just trying to understand what is happening here. Come on, try putting yourself in my shoes, so far I'm having a pretty shitty night and you're not helping."

He mulled over my words as he watched the money before us. His black boots toed with the bills on the ground, he sighed and bore his green eyes into mine.

"I was a cop. A pretty stupid one, actually. I got into some trouble with people you don't want to know, and they framed me, end of story." His smooth voice was getting rougher as he spoke though his eyes never left my own. He didn't seem so tough now that his cocky demeanor had all but disappeared.

"Really? What happened? You can't tell me that and leave me hanging, dude."

He chuckled, full of bitterness and anger. I was waiting for him to tell me his story. For someone I believed would kill me, learning he used to be a cop was kind of a shock though it wasn't that surprising either, with dirty cops and all that I suppose.

Granted, one should never judge a book by its cover but still, he didn't look anything like the cops I was accustomed to as the daughter of Fork's very own police chief. Edward would make the old ladies in my hometown swoon, I'm sure most of them would find more reasons to call the men in uniform. I laughed at the thought of old Mrs Clearwater batting her lashes at Edward, now that would be a sight to see. The man in question kept silent as my inner ramblings were all over the place.

I was wondering what to do next when we heard a car come up our way. We were deep enough in the woods to avoid being seen from the road but Edward's demeanor changed as he became agitated and started stuffing the money back into the satchel.

"What are you doing?" I asked, perplexed by his behavior.

"We need to move", he was interrupted by a screech of tires about a mile away maybe. I've never been good with estimating distances so it was hard for me to tell where the noise originated from. It wasn't far from us. Edward looked nervous as he took my arm to guide me to the truck.

"What? Why? It's just a car, Edward, chill" I tried to get out of his grasp without success. He opened the car and practically threw me in it as he fired back, "we don't have time for this. Buckle up, sweetheart."

Running to the side had had appointed himself since we started our unfortunate adventure – the driver's one, of fucking course. The man had serious issues with control. He was always grabbing me, leading me...a therapist would have a field day with that.

My thoughts were full of sarcasm as we got back on the road, though to be honest, I'm often like that, no matter the situation or the people, so I guess it wasn't entirely Edward's fault.

"Why did you freak the fuck out at a car?" I pestered the man, who looked mightily annoyed by my ever present curiosity and refusal to let myself lead by his will. Yeah, well get used to it buddy, I sulked in silence.

"We needed to get the hell out of dodge, Isabella."

Laconic as ever. Peachy.

"What the fuck? You sound insane."

"Isabella, I-"

"Are you?" I interrupted again, wary as to where he was steering us.

"What?"

"Insane, I mean."

"No, I'm not crazy, Isabella,"he answered, half annoyed and half amused, "I'm keeping you safe, that's all I've been trying to do, surely you realize that?"

"Huh...Maybe I should get away from you then because it seems to me you're the one putting me into danger since I've met you."

"Don't be so over dramatic, Isabella" he tutted, stared me down and let out a groan, "first, I didn't force you to take the money. In fact, if I recall accurately, you did all that on your own, so don't blame me for your mistakes. I'll own up to mine if you do the same."

And a verbal lashing coming right up for table 4...Alright, then. Jesus, I should have kept my stupid mouth shut.

"Now we need to switch cars and get the fuck out of here."

"Whaat? No!" I screamed in disbelief. That guy is unbelievable. Where does he get off seriously? "I'm not going anywhere. I have an apartment, a job and a life here. I can't just pack up and leave."

"There is no time for packing up, Isabella. We need to go now. As in I'm-not-driving-you-back-home-and-we'll be-in-the-next-state-tomorrow now", he enunciated as if he was talking to a retarded child.

"What the fuck? No way. Let me out, asshole."

I never got an answer because as soon as I said that he noticed something in the rear view mirror, cursed and sped up. I clutched the armrest as the speed demon besides me was breaking every traffic law in place, driving like a possessed man. I shrieked as I saw how fast he was actually going.

"Holy shit! Slow down Edward...Fuck, we're gonna die. You're gonna kill us" I screamed at him, feeling faint as the scenery blurred thanks tothe high velocity of the truck.

"Calm down, Isabella. We have a tail and I need to shake it. I'm a very good driver, don't worry" he stated with calm.

"Calm down? Oh god, oh god, oh god...I'm too young to die." He let out a deep-bellied laugh and just shook his head, paying me no mind as he continued to drive like a maniac.

"Fuck you, asshole. Fuck you. Oh god..."

My screams were turning into moans of fright as the road swerved a bit. I wanted to hurl when I saw Edward was not planning on slowing down. On the contrary, despite an air of seriousness around him, the fucker seemed to enjoy our predicament. A lot. Fuck my life. He took a left at the next crossroad and glanced rearward through the backseat.

"Shit, they're still here" he remarked, getting a bit more anxious as the minutes passed.

"Who?"

"I don't know. But they're not leaving. Hold on, Isabella."

"No, no, no..I'm gonna puke, Edward. Fuck, can't we slow down and speak with them? Maybe we're not the one they want?"

"Wake the fuck up, sweetheart. When you took that bag you pissed off a lot of people and they have been looking for me for a while now...So that car, right there?" he said, nodding to the mirror as I saw a black SUV. "It's not a coincidence or a mistake. They're here for us."

To say that I was terrified would be putting it mildly. Here I was, in the middle of a car chase with a man I did not know forty-eight hours ago, scared out of my wits. My stomach up heaved and my heart was racing wildly as I tried to get a grip. My knuckles had turned white, I was pale and sweaty, watching the road with increasing horror. Edward seemed unruffled by my behavior. His head continued darting right, left, backwards and straight ahead in constant intervals.

After five minutes of silent, heavy atmosphere in the truck, he looked at me, grasped my hand and gave it a squeeze. The man seemed placid, serene, as if nothing could perturb his concentration. That was a relief, at least he seemed to know what he was doing. On the upside, we were not dead, yet, nor were we in the hands of our mysterious assailants. For now, Edward appeared to get the situation under control and I started to relax. Seeing me visibly simmer down and collect myself, he sent a peaceful smile to me and spoke.

"They're still here, three cars behind us but we'll be okay Isabella."

"Yeah, right", I snorted. I had calmed but that did not mean everything was magically okay. I just chose to go with the flow. And besides, trusting Edward, within reasons, seemed the only choice I had right now.

"You'll see. I have no desire to die, Isabella. And I will not let them harm you, trust me", he plead.

I couldn't help but feel the stirring in me at his words. This man would be the death of me, I could feel it. Hopefully, not in the literal sense, but the jury is still out on that. My traitorous heart couldn't help but beat faster when I looked into his emerald orbs. It wasn't just the eyes, but his attractive face and that smooth, deep voice of his that appealed to me...

That beautiful man made my mind spin and go from angry to horny and back to furious in mere seconds. He was getting under my skin with an ease which scared the bejeezus out of me. My control was getting shred to tiny little pieces and my inner slut could do nothing but laugh with glee as she watched the fragments burn. The rational part of me, however, was still not convinced. It seemed too surreal, too unsettling for my mind to catch up with the palpitations of my heart.

Danger fueled my adrenaline and clouded my judgment, I reflected as I let out a deep breath.. .While my brain might have trouble assessing my predicament, my libido seemed to have no such problem.

I was trying to come up with something to say in order to lighten the mood in the truck when the car lurched brusquely to the right.

"Watch out Bella", Edward yelled as another SUV came straight at us.

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******Loved it? Hated it? A little bit of both? Leave a review, tell me what you think.**


	6. Ch6: Car Chases,Bumpy Roads& Old Friends

**I'm still amazed my little brainchild gets any attention at all, so thank you**** to all those who followed, favorited ****or read this**** story.** **I'd love to know what you think. Good, bad and in between. Don't be shy, leave a review. Yes, I'm talking to you too, my lurking visitors ;)**

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**You'reCute – **I won't lie, I was hoping for that. I'm glad it worked! Hopefully my little story will keep you on the edge of your seat, anxious to know what will happen next to B&E. This one is longer so buckle up :)

******iAmShutterbug ****– **The reader in me wants to be sorry, but the writer is happy to leave you with a cliffhanger, hoping you'll wonder about what comes next...we'll see if I can leave you breathless again or at least worried about B&E's fate in the next chapters.

******JXB Addicted – **I love that you're asking questions... This chapter will answer some of them. Be patient, E is elusive, even with me...so B might still have a bit of trouble with our tight-lipped asshole. Thanks :)

******BelovedSunshine –** Welcome on board. I have to keep you in the dark a bit, it's more fun that way, I hopeit keeps you guessing, wondering what their next move will be ;)

**cbmorefie – **Thank you for sticking with me!

**SunflowerFran – **Yes, he's not the most straight-forward guy. He has his reasons, as you will find out slowly. For now, Bella has no real alternative besides sticking with him but she will not lower all her defenses just yet.

I own nothing but my ideas, words and an unhealthy obsession with stealthy bad boys.

**Everything else belongs to their rightful owner.**

******Chapter 6 : ********Car ********C********hases, ********Bumpy Roads******** & Old Friends**

I watched in horror as the black car collided into us sideways, screaming my head off while Edward was doing his best to avoid the impending roadway departure. He was clinging the wheel with both hands, trying to steer the car as the SUV came at us again.

"Fucking bastards", he cursed loudly. "Hang in there,Isabella."

"Hang in there? Are you fucking kidding me? We're gonna die, Edward-"

"Oh, for Christ's sake. We are not going to die, you hear me?" he asked me forcefully while both pursuing cars were still hot on our tail. He looked at me for a split second, with unwavering determination in his eyes, trying to reassure me as I shook with fear,but I was beyond rational.

My heart was racing as my mind was stuck on a loop..._I'm going to die, _kept repeating, like a sinister little music on a broken record playing in my head. I opened then closed my mouth, unable to voice the dread I felt. Edward radiated with cold poise which contrasted drastically with my own behavior. He navigated between lanes like a pro, barely escaping our assailants, but prompting me to wonder how many times he had been in a high-speed car chase before.

I could have kept thinking about the secrets he was not sharing with me, the dangerous things that happened to me since I've laid eyes on him at the restaurant, even the somewhat sadistic look that passed from time to time in his eyes, or how he seemed haunted at times. On the other hand, I ruled that out to give myself a break. That, and a car chase is perhaps not the most conducing setting to practice deep thinking or self introspection. My nervous ramblings were interrupted by Edward once again.

"God dammit, they're trying to corner us, those motherfuckers...Listen, I don't know how much longer I can fend them off."

"Well that's just great, now isn't it?" I couldn't help but snark at the man.

"Isabella" he warned in a stern voice, "Can you stop with the sarcasm for a minute, please? We need to dump the car-"

"Yeah? And do what? Escape on foot? Great idea, I'm sure that will be so much better."

Edward never had the chance to answer me. Both cars were coming at us, still trying to drive us off the road. The first one hit the back of the car, jerking it slightly while its accomplice bumped into the passenger side, right at my level.

"Holy fuck. Edward!" I screamed once more, scared to death as I saw the black-tinted windows of the SUV next to me.

"I know, I know. Stay calm." He grunted while his hands were still gripping the wheel. He lurched the car in the opposite direction, off the road.

"Shit, Edward, what are you doing? You just did them a fucking favor." The car bumped on the muddy path. We came close to the trees more than once, Edward slalomed with expertise between them, rocks and potholes in the dirt road. Now, my truck had been build for them, but that was twenty years ago, the car's body was clanking with each mile we tried to put between us and our pursuers.

"I'm trying to get rid of them, princess, what do you think? Watch that" he gave a snappy comeback and drove straight to a clutter of trees at the beginning of the forest.

I squeaked and breathed harshly while we approached, Edward glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure they were still hot on our trails and waited for the last goddamn minute to veer the wheel to the right. He floored the gas as we heard a loud crash. I turned and looked behind just in time to see the second car come to a stop. Our first pursuer had not foreseen Edward's little maneuver, causing it to crash in the trees and block its partner's car as we escaped.

"Damn, you're good" I remarked to the smirking man driving my truck. The bastard was good, I had to admit. While I would have surrendered, too scared to think of anything else to save my own skin past the first ten minutes of our car chase, he had kept his cool and had evaded them. He grinned at me, smug asshole that he is.

"I'm glad you thought so, sweetheart", he deepened his voice and winked at me.

"Yeah, yeah, don't let it get to your head, buddy" I rolled my eyes.

After a quick glance back to the rear view mirror, he told me we were in the clear and finally got back on the road. My ass was sore, my legs were cramped and I needed to pee. I said as much to my wannabe NASCAR driver. Edward agreed we needed a quick halt but he was adamant we take the opportunity to ditch the car, to avoid drawing any further attraction on ourselves. I gave in easily. After all, my truck is not exactly discreet. Quite the opposite,though I suppose it could be useful in a weird, hidden in plain sight kind of way. It's so obvious, people will dismiss it. I tried explaining my theory to Edward, but my favorite asshole just laughed and scoffed, reminding me the men who had chased us before could catch up with us and keeping the truck would just make it easy for them.

"Yeah well I'll play it safe or you'll be dead. So, if you don't mind, we are going to drive for five more minutes, to be sure we did shake those fuckers off, then we'll ditch your damn monstrosity for a real, every day car and be on our merry way. How does that sound for you, James Bond? Think you can do that, sweetheart?"

He really is a patronizing son of a bitch.

"I was just saying-"

"I know what you were doing, Isabella", he added looking straight away and avoiding my gaze.

"Oh yeah? And what, pray tell, is that?"

"I'm not sure I've said it before, but really sweetheart, nobody likes a smart ass."

"..."

"Look, I get it. This is new for you, and if I'm right, there is that desperate need inside of you to hang onto every last shred of what you know, what you used to be...But Bella, you need to forget all that. Right now, dangerous people want to make us disappear. They saw you with me, they know about the money, if I was them I would assume we were working together-"

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

"Hn", he grunted, "Though if I was them I'd think we planned it."

"WHAT? I never did anything but take the bag."

"I know, but they don't. Look, Isabella, the big picture here, the one that you must force your overwhelmed brain to see is that you're in danger. _Real, life threatening danger_. Those people will kill you in a heartbeat, without any remorse. Trust me on that."

I couldn't answer. My life had been turned upside down just because I was a greedy bitch and took that fucking bag. Of course it was too easy, I should have known. Who was I trying to kid? I'm not the kind of person who just, one day, out of the blue, finds a bag full of cash laying around. No, I'm the dumb girl who takes it home and ends up in a shit storm thrice the size of the bag, just because of greediness and poor insight on my part...And dumb luck too, because I was not as much greedy as I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I had a human moment, too bad it ended up as one big fuckery altogether.

"OK" I meekly replied.

"OK? Just like that? No counter argument?"

"No. I agree, you're right."

"Good." I was glad he didn't gloat.

Ten minutes later, we were in the parking of a supermarket, hidden behind rows of cars. We had parked my car further up the road, next to the police station. The supermarket was on the next lot, Edward hoped to find another car for us there and some food for the drive. He lead us inside after checking the cars outside, hurrying the pace when we were past the security cameras.

"We need food, clothes and some medical supply, just in case." he said as he started perusing the shelves. "How opposed would you be to dying or cutting your hair?"

"Really? Look at those locks, asshole, what do you think?" I love my hair, like every female out there probably, and I'd rather not chop it off after letting it grow for years. I trimmed the ends and my bangs on a regular basis, but I had outgrown the crazy hair-do and colors of my rebellious youth long ago. Edward watched it, grunted and dismissed my concerns.

"Fine, no cutting but you'll have to dye it. Can we compromise on that?"

"What about you? Don't you think that crazy mop of bronze hair of yours is a bit obvious?" He ran his hand through it and shot me a grin.

"I know that, which is why I'm cropping it short, sweetheart."

Smug asshole.

"Fine, I'll dye it. But I will choose the color." I darted towards the beauty department, trying to locate their hair care department. Edward followed me in front of the hair color section.

"So, dashing blond or sexy red-head?"

I wanted to say neither and, just to spite him, take an electric blue or something but I decided to be mature and reached for the auburn and the black ones. I figured those would be fine, not too close to my current brown but not too flashy either, so I turned toward Edward.

"Which one?"

"Take both. But wear the red first" he wiggled his eyebrows and winked at me.

"You really are an asshole"

"You've said that before, sweetheart, now come on, we need clothes and food."

I let him lead me through the aisles. First the food, then drinks, and clothes. He grabbed basic, black and gray shirts for him, two jeans and a pair of – big surprise, there – black boots. The man loved his black, it seemed, and he didn't disappoint when we shopped for me. Black, gray and brown must have been his favorite colors. I selected a red top that wasn't good enough, because apparently it's too flashy, in the end I let him handpick two jeans, a black hoodie and a pair of brown boots with a buckle on the side. I had to approve those shoes, he had good taste, but drew the line at letting him pick my undies. We separated for those and met back at the cash register. He left me in line to grab a first-aid kit, we paid and went back to the parking.

"Now what?" I asked him as he looked at different cars.

"Now we steal a car, sweetheart. Come on, this one looks good."

He crossed through the alleys of cars, down the back of the lot to a gray Sedan.

"This one", he announced as he put down our groceries bags.

"And how are we supposed to steal it, genius?" I watched the man as he put his hand on the car, started mumbling some words and made a back and forth motion on the door.

"Do I have your attention, sweetheart?"he glanced back to me with that fucking smug face of his.

"Yes", I snapped back as he stopped his curious motions.

He tried the door handle once, but failed to get into the car, which did not seem to faze the man. He turned to me and smirked.

"Good. We get in with a key, princess, how the fuck am I supposed to get in otherwise? With my magic powers, maybe?" He said, full of sarcasm as he produced a key chain.

"What...But...er...you...Asshole" I spluttered, bewildered. "How did you get that?"

"How do you think?"

"How the hell should I know? I'm a waitress, dickhead, not a fucking rocket scientist."The man was aggravating. He deliberately played on my nerves since the moment we met. Well, maybe not the moment per se, I thought he was a hottie back then, but since he kidnapped me. He looked at me while he opened the gray car, acting all pretty fucking satisfied with himself, he started loading our bags in the back seat.

"I stole them. Now get in there" he announced as he finished, closed the door and went for the driver seat. Again. I huffed but got inside the car, buckling up just in case. And we were off again.

We drove for a while in complete silence. I could hear his even breathing, the twitch of his fingers on the wheel and the nervous tapping of mine against the window as we rode toward God knows where. I decided to ask him and he told me we were headed to Oregon. He knew someone near Salem, who could help us, or so he said. I tried to pry more information out of my reluctant partner, but didn't get much. He just said," a friend".

"Great, just great. You won't tell me who, you've barely told me where. What can I ask exactly?"

"Anything, sweetheart, I'm just not saying I'll answer every last damn question your lovely brain will cook up, princess."

There he goes, with that smirk again. The worst thing was, it was starting to grow on me. And I hated that. I felt like a goddamn idiot woman who couldn't lay her eyes on an asshole without being attracted like moth to a flame. _Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me?_

In my defense, the bastard was charming. Kinda. He had that bad boy thing going on for him. The kind of man every inch of your instincts will warn you about, yet you can't help but let him get under your skin. And I'm only a human. A woman, with hormones, and mine were telling me to hit that.

I reigned my inner slut in, locked her in a cell and threw the key, preventing any further attempt she could make to take control of me. I'm not letting him win. Not now, not ever. So what if I'm horny and there is this delicious piece of man meat in front of me? I will stay strong. He is a bastard first and foremost, the good-looking part is just a distraction. Right. I shook my head, trying to get my mind back on track. The drive down to Salem was about four hours, if I remembered correctly, which would give me time to question him so I started with an easy one.

"Where are you from?"

"Chicago."

"OK, so you were a cop there?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Five years."

"What did you do before?"

"The Army."

I glared at him, the man was anything but cooperative. I said as much and he scoffed.

"I am cooperative, I'm answering every question you ask with the truth. How is that uncooperative?"

"Ah, so you do know how to answer in more than two words. I'm so impressed by your communication skills."

"Oh, sweetheart, between you and me, it's a tie" he laughed and fired back.

"I have people skills" I argued in complete disbelief of the man besides me.

"You do not."

"I do too."I said childishly.

"Yeah, I'm sure, and I'm POTUS, sweetheart."

"Whatever."

"Oh, come on, sweetheart, don't pout. Go on, ask a question" he prompted when I turned to my window to watch the passing scenery once more.

I stayed silent, ignoring him, but that didn't deter the man. He poked my shoulder, nudging me and I swatted his finger away. I was sulking away silently when he started humming in a low voice. I listened to his little song, trying to recognize what it was. It seemed familiar but I could not pinpoint it. I groaned at loud.

He laughed and said, "You wanna know what it is, don't you?"

I ignored him.

"Fine. Be that way" he stopped humming and added, "and for your information, it was Daft Punk-"

"Get lucky! I recognize it now."

"Not bad" he acknowledged with a nod, "though it's been everywhere this summer so I suppose congrats for not living under a rock, sweetheart."

"Gee, thanks"

"And she talks again, be still my heart" he dramatically said, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

"Don't let it-"

"Go to your head, I know, sweetheart" he winked at me, quickly reverting his attention back to the road.

"So, Chicago? What happened?" I tried again. Now that we were more relaxed, maybe he would be in the mood to talk. And not just two words answers with any luck.

"I was on a case, dug a little deeper than I should have, and I got framed as retaliation I suppose. To bury my lead, and well me with it."

"What kind of case? And framed for what?"

"Murder. To both of your question. I was a homicide detective."

I didn't know what to say after that. I wanted to keep asking questions, I still had plenty of those, but I did not want to risk rushing only to have him clam up again. Edward looked deep in thought, a frown marred his face and his eyes seemed darker. The same thing had happened earlier when he mentioned being a cop. If Edward took the fall for something he didn't do, I suppose it makes sense that it would still haunt him. So I waited him out, trying to follow his clues and watch his body language for any sign of further discomfort as I prepared to prod him some more.

I glanced backwards in the back seat to our shopping bags and the black satchel we carried with us. I was wondering what was in the USB drive he retrieved from the bag earlier. He said someone stole it from him, but had not explained. I figured I could let the murder issue rest and try my luck with the device instead.

"What's on the drive?" I asked.

Edward sighed before answering. "Proof."

"Of what?"

"Proof I'm innocent and did not commit any murder."

"You said someone stole it from you?" I pressed the issue.

"Yes"

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not particularly" he let out a bitter laughter. "Why did you take the bag?"

"Because it was there?" I scoffed "What would you have done? It was there, no one was around. I took it. Just like anybody would have in my place."

"Yeah, you're probably right" he admitted.

"How did you know I had it?"

He grinned, "I'm the all-knowing asshole, sweetheart" he laughed at me.

"Yeah, right. Fine. Don't tell me, I'm hungry anyways."

Rifling through our grocery bag, I took two BLTs, gave one to Edward and started removing the lettuce from mine.

"What are you doing?" He asked me, puzzled by my behavior as I placed the offending pieces of salad into a bag I had put aside for our trash.

"I don't eat lettuce, or salad for that matter."

"Why didn't you say something before, at the store? I would've taken another one for you."

"Thanks but there was nothing salad free so..."

"Alright, well bon appétit" he said as he unwrapped his sandwich with one hand, the other still resting on the wheel. He was eating it with gusto while I nibbled on mine, I was hungry but my stomach was still unsettled, what with the car chase and all. I reached in the bag for a bottle of water and took a mouthful of the sparkling liquid.

"Not hungry anymore?" he asked when I swallowed my third bite.

"I am. My stomach is not feeling it, though."

"Try relaxing, sweetheart. Breathe deeply in and out, in and out..." Edward repeated. I copied his rhythm with my breath and my pulse lowered a bit, calming my racing heart.

"Feel better?"

"A bit, thanks." I went back to my sandwich, still not eating much, although I didn't feel like puking anymore. We ate in silence for a while, Edward concentrating on the road while I looked out the window, lost in my thoughts. Neither of us spoke much after that. I blew out a wary breath and closed my eyes, trying to rest a bit while Edward put on a Jazz station. The soft notes of piano lulled me to sleep, deep into a dreamless slumber.

More than two hours and a half into the drive, Edward woke me up, shaking my shoulders gently. We made a pit spot at Saint-Helens, right after entering the Beaver State. We went into the gas station, relieved our human needs and bought bottled water before going back on the road. He drove around the city, past the McCormick park before going back on his track.

"What now?"

"We need to switch cars."

"Again? God, paranoid, much?" I snapped.

"Yes, again, Isabella. I don't want to go to my friend's house and lead them there. So, that might be paranoid, but I won't take any chances. We're switching cars."

I glared at the man but let him have his way, for now. He parked a few block away from the County Law Library, grabbed our bags and got out. We walked to a used car dealership not far from there. He marched us inside where a typical sleazy car salesman accosted us right away. I let Edward do the talking. He bargained with the man for a standard black SUV, talking about mileage and other things I had no clues about. I never bought a car alone, since my dad gave me my truck, so they could have very well been speaking Chinese, it would not have made much of a difference to me. Edward signed some papers, produced an ID to the salesman and paid cash for our new car.

It seemed we would not be stealing every car we used after all. Good. I was sufficiently unsettled by our first time, and I had the sneaking suspicion Edward was not much of a virgin in that department either. Though I had curbed the good, cop daughter side of me for the greater good, mainly to save my own hide once again. Ideals were great and all, but right now, I could not afford to have them so I put mine asides and tried to go with the flow.

In no time we were back on the road again, driving past Vancouver on the highway, then Portland and finally we approached the outskirts of Salem. We went off the main road, towards a smaller one, before we reached a crossroad. Edward took the right and reached for his phone.

He fiddled with it while he drove, texting his friend to announce our pending arrival. He smiled at the reply and I had a glimpse of a more relaxed Edward. The man could smile. Not smirk, not grin, not sneer, just smile. It seemed since our brief encounter at the restaurant, where I had the pleasure of meeting this charming guy, he had a metamorphosis and turned into an ugly frog.

From then on, I only dealt with smug Edward, arrogant Edward or angry Edward. Those were not really to my liking, though they seemed to please my inner slut just fine. I guess the bitch didn't get the memo when she was in heat. We do not like self-righteous assholes, we avoid them.

As I was mulling his multi facets personality, a house came into our view after a long driveway lined up with trees. There stood a man, with his phone in hand and a beer in the other. He waved to us which made my favorite asshole smile. A full blown smile, mind you, with no hidden snark behind, just happiness to see his friend. He switched off the engine and got out of the car. I was nervously fidgeting with my bag, watching the two friends reunite in the privacy of the sedan.

As much as I would have liked to hide some more, Edward gestured for me to join them. I resigned myself to getting out of the car and meet his friend. The man was tall, slim yet muscular, with blonde loosely hanging to his shoulders and piercing blue eyes. He introduced himself with an easy smile and a shake of his hand.

"Howdy, ma'am, I'm Jasper."

******Loved it? Hated it? A little bit of both? Leave a review, tell me what you think. **


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